


Perfect Date

by The_Renegade



Series: One Shots [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Avengers Family, Cheese, Cute, Domestic Avengers, Dresses, F/M, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Fun, Games, Happy Ending, I actually wrote something cute, I mean literally no angst, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing in the Rain, Love, Love Confessions, No Angst, One Shot, Rain, Short One Shot, Tags Are Fun, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Wine, but there is a bit, mysterious package, the cheese level isnt that high
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 17:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15442416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Renegade/pseuds/The_Renegade
Summary: when y/n gets asked by clint barton what their idea of a perfect date would be, they never imagined anything more would come of it. time to find out just how wrong they were.





	Perfect Date

**Author's Note:**

> this was from a prompt challenge (which I accept any of so pls do send them to me)

“Okay so,” he began, before taking a long pull from his beer of choice for that night, glancing around the circle, trying to pick his next target for this silly game. The question game. It was a ‘team building exercise,’ for your team, the Avengers, but was decidedly more fun while drinking than playing it sober. “Y/N” Clint Barton looked directly at you, as your name fell delicately out of his lips, almost challengingly. He had very nice lips, though you were pretty sure it was just the alcohol making you think that. You stared back at him, raising an eyebrow, waiting for his question.

“What is….” he mused for a moment, taking another sip of his own beer. “What is your perfect date?” He set his beer down hard on its coaster (Tony insisted they used coasters on his glass tables, or else) and leaned back into the couch, satisfied with his question.

You stared at him and let your mouth drop open, just ever so slightly, while you thought about his question. What was the last time you had even gone on a date?? Probably before you had joined the Avengers. Most normal people didn’t really understand what it was like to have the power you did, to be able to wield it. Most people were just interested in the fame. So it took a bit to remember, to imagine up, your perfect date.

“Well, I would want to be picked up. None of this wait outside and text that you’re here business,” you started, taking a sip from your drink. “It’s got to be real, and proper, if it’s going to happen at all. I’d like it to be raining, I think. Not pouring, but just a nice, warm, steady rain. I’d like to take a walk through the park together, under an umbrella, and eat a private dinner for two in a gazebo by candlelight.” You looked down at your lap, spinning your beer in your hand. “But if any of that couldn’t be arranged, I’d just want my perfect date to be quiet and peaceful. Meaningful, just the two of us.” You looked back up at Barton, raising an eyebrow. “Good enough answer for ya?”

Clint grinned, grabbing another beer and popping it open. “Much more detailed than I expected out of you, Y/N. Plenty good. Who’s next?” And just like that, the night carried on.

The Avengers continued to ask themselves more and more personal questions until Tony and Clint had collapsed into fits of giggles and Natasha was thoroughly drunk and trying very hard not to show it. It was a good night, the kind of night you probably would have remembered forever, if you hadn’t started mixing beer and liquor a couple drinks later and wound up stumbling to the elevator to get in your uber. While Tony had obviously given you a suite in the tower, sometimes you just liked being in your own apartment, in your safe, happy space.

You practically fell into bed, barely haven’t a second thought about why the most handsome Avenger (in your personal opinion, not one you actually ever vocalized) had asked about your perfect date. In fact, you didn’t think about that night until a few weeks later, when storm clouds opened up over New York and the perfect, steady rain fell through the evening sky.

You heard the sound of the mailman dropping off your post and practically sprinted down the stairs to grab it. The last thing you want was your letters getting soaked through. It had happened before, the sudden storm making it impossible to read your bills, your letters, all the ink bled and ran like little drops of blood to the ground. Weren’t about to let that happen again, if it was up to you. But when you opened your heavy door, you were surprised to see a large, brown box, spattered with drops of water. Cautiously, you grabbed the box and brought it inside. You hadn’t been expected a package, and while no one in the outside world knew it was one of the Avengers living in this tiny, brick apartment shaded by large trees, you could never be too careful.

Opening the box delicately, you were surprised to find…a dress? Inside. It was soft, lavender in colour, and looked like it would hang on your body like dew. There was nothing else in the box but the soft dress. You checked the box for any sort of shipping address or label, a sign of where it had come from, but there were none. The hairs on the back of your neck slowly began to stand on end. Something wasn’t right here. This had to be some sort of trap. The dress was laced with something, and the second she put it on, her body would absorb some sort of poison. Closing the box, you grabbed a leather jacket off the hook and shrugged it on over your olive green tank. You had to find your phone and call Coulson. Might as well bring this sort of thing to SHIELD’s attention if someone was sending you threats.

After finding your phone, buried under a pile of clothes, you sent a quick text with a picture of the box and its contsense to the new Director of SHIELD and waited anxiously for a reply, when suddenly you heard three loud knocks on your door. Walking quietly towards the door, avoiding the floodboards that you knew were creaky, you stood on your tiptoes to look through the tiny peephole. What you saw outside was such a shock, you nearly tumbled backwards in disbelief. You had been expecting an attacker, whoever had sent that box, waiting in the eve of your stoop, shadow black against the soft grey sky.

Instead, there stood Clint Barton, in a button up shirt and a light rain jacket, holding a small bouquet of flowers in his hand, the other hand reaching up to knock on your door again. Before he could, you threw open the door and stood in front of him, eyeing him, then the flowers, your questioning gaze meeting his soft eyes.

“Clint,” you greeted, “What are you doing here?” For a moment, the two of you stood there, staring at each other as cool raindrops fell on your shoulders. His mouth opened and closed a few times, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words out right.

Finally he held the flowers up in front of him, soft and white, streaked with little lines of pink. “So, um, I had this idea. It was a pretty stupid idea, really,” he began, shrugging sheepishly. “It all started with that stupid question game the other week and, well, I don’t know. I’ve been thinking for a long time that you might want to, maybe, go on a date with me. So I set it up. Your perfect date.” He looked down at you with a quiet hope in his eyes.

You looked at the flowers that he still held in his shaking hands and a small smile slipped over your lips. You reached out, grabbing the small bouquet. “Let me go put these in a vase quick,” you said, “Then you can take me on this date of yours.”

You never knew anyone could look so beautiful as he did when he smiled back at you.

 

He had really done it, he had really listened to what you had said, orchestrated the whole thing. And he had waited, patiently, for the day where the rain had come and he could make sure that final touch was there. You could believe he had put all this time and effort into setting this whole thing up, just to make you happy. To really give you your perfect date.

As the two of you walked through the park, umbrella over your heads and fingers linked through one another, you could feel the anticipation growing. Things had always been so easy between you and Clint. He had helped you feel at home when you first joined the Avengers. He had made you laughed, helped you train. And while all the Avengers had become fast friends, something about him had just always clicked. But you had never imagined it would lead to think. To a date. To his warm hand in yours and worrying if he could feel the sweat on your palms. Yet, here you were.

“I still can’t believe this,” you said quietly, barely loud enough to be heard over the rain pattering on the black umbrella he held above the two of you. You looked up at him and grinned. “It’s surprisingly pretty sweet, never would have thought you had it in you, Barton.”

“Well, Y/L/N, there’s a lot of things that you don’t know that I have in me,” he said with a laugh, before stopping, “Wait, that came out wrong,” he grinned down at you.

“Sounds oddly sexual but in a weird way,” you replied with a laugh. “Just how I like it.”

“Duly noted,” he said with a wink, “But we’ll have to get back to that later, cause we’re here,” he brandished his arms out wide, displaying the large gazebo before them. It was covered with flowers, the railings were practically dripping with them. Candles lined the stairs and there were three sitting on a circular table in the center of the gazebo, which had two plates, covered with silver dish lids, waiting for them. A bottle of red wine sat, waiting for the two of you to open and consume. The whole thing looked magical.

You gripped his forearm, giving it a tight squeeze. “Shut up! You did this all for me? This is amazing!” You gushed, unable to contain just how happy this had made you. No one had ever done something so personal for you. No one had ever tried this hard to make you happy. You weren’t one for crying, but in this moment you felt like you could.

“Pssh, this? This is nothing. You’re the amazing one here,” he said cheesily, full well knowing how corny he sounded, but not really giving a damn. This was your moment. The two of you, finally, on a date. Just like he had always imagined it, but even better. Because it was no longer imaginary. This was the real deal, you were finally here with him. He couldn’t ask for a better night.

You couldn’t help but blush and roll your eyes. “Alright now buddy, watch the cheese level. We haven't’ even started eating yet,” you pushed him playfully as the two of you walked up the steps to the table. He graciously grabbed your chair and pulled it out for you, allowing you to sit down in front of the meal. Then, with a playful air, he pulled the lids off your plates with a flourish, revealing your favourite meal. He must have gotten that secret from Nat.

Pouring you each a glass of wine, he sat down across the table from you. In this moment, this moment of quiet where the two of you were together, eating, drinking, everything was perfect. No one saw you as Avengers here, no one needed you to be heroes. You could just be Clint and Y/N. There was nothing more you had ever asked for. You smiled over at him happily, as you took a sip from your wine.

“Really, Clint, thank you for this,” you smiled shyly over at him. “I never thought…I never thought you’d be interested in someone like me. I always thought you just saw me as…I dunno, as family I guess.” You could feel the redness of your cheeks, which only added to the embarrassment you felt for opening up to him. Opening up had never been easy for you, letting people in had become even harder when people only wanted to get close to you for the fame. “You make me feel normal, a feeling I haven’t felt in a long, long time.”

Clint’s brow furrowed as he looked over at you. “Well I don’t know why you’d ever think I wouldn’t like you. Fuck, I thought I’d been dropping pretty good hints for like…the past year!” He laughed. “Apparently they weren’t that good. But seriously, Y/N.” He reached over the table, grabbing your hand. “When you joined the team, my entire world changed. I know you’ve had your own battles, we all have, but I want you to know that you bring light to the team. You are such a genuinely good person, and my day feels better just by being near you.” At this point, you did really have tears brimming in your eyes. “I know this is just the first date, but I want to keep going on them with you. I want there to be hundreds of dates. Because when something feels this good, you can’t just let it go.”

You sat there, stunned for a moment, touched by his words. Clint had always been the kind of hide his feelings behind sarcasm and wit, and now, here his was, bearing his soul for you to see. “I want that, too,” you replied, smiling and blinking away the tears. “I think we’re a good thing together, Clint. We fit together.”

“We do,” he grinned. “Now comeon’, let me bring you back home.” The two of you walked lazily back to your house, dancing around puddles and laughing the whole way back. This truly was a good, good thing.

It was on the stoop of your home that you shared your first kiss. He had been starting to say goodbye when you stood on your toes and kissed him sweetly, passionately. You wanted him to feel just how much this moment had meant to you, how he had touched your heart. His lips were soft and warm and melted into yours. His hand slipped behind your neck, cradling you close to him. Without a word, not wanting him to leave you just yet, you pushed open the door and pulled him inside.

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Inside the house, your jacket’s fell to the floor as the kiss continued, heat searing across your body like lightning. No one had ever lit such a spark inside you. He lifted you up, having you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you up stairs, laying you gently on your bed. He kissed you again there, then lead a trail of kisses down your cheek, your neck, your chest until he reached the button of your jeans.

“Clint, what are you doing?” You laughed, as he struggled to undo the button.

He looked up from your hips and grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “Giving you a perfect date.”

You threw your head back laughing, the entire thing coming together. Between laughs, you managed to choke out, “Next time, I’ll wear the dress.”


End file.
